He liked it, too, especially the part of seeing Sahara on her knees in front of him, naked. Brand tried to relax, but every muscle in his body tensed as she opened the snap and slowly, agonizingly drew down his zipper.
Being the diabolical woman that she was, she leaned down and nuzzled against his stomach, her fingers playing over his erection. When he shifted slightly, she quickly opened the material and freed him from his boxers.
Her small hands encircled him and she pressed a soft kiss to the head.
Brand nearly groaned, but he enjoyed the game too much to give it up this quickly. “Stroke me.”
With a sly smile, she whispered, “Yes, sir.”
Damn, she was even better at the game than he was. He’d never survive—especially when her grip tightened and she started a slow, firm stroke up and down his length.
He pressed his feet hard to the floor, bracing himself against the pleasure.
Her breath teased over him, and she asked, “Okay if I kiss you now, too?”
Taking in her tumbled hair, the heat in her beautiful blue eyes and the rosy glow to her skin, he nodded. “As long as you use your tongue.”
God, she did. With a throaty purr, she licked around him, her tongue hot and wet, and then slid her lips down and over him, taking more and more until she closed her mouth on him.
Unable to bite back the groan, Brand tangled both hands in her hair and drew her closer.
She braced her hands on his upper thighs, her head bobbing slowly as she made him insane. His lust churned; the need to release burned inside him.
He kept one hand cupped on the back of her head, and with the other, he reached under her to find her breasts. She was so soft all over, so sleek and sexy... Deeper and deeper she took him until he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“That’s enough.”
“Mmm,” she said against his dick, so that even the small murmur felt like a hot caress.
“Sahara.” It wasn’t easy since he really didn’t want to stop, but he got her mouth off him when he said, “I want to be inside you.”
Lifting dazed eyes, she stared at him. “But I could—”
“No doubt. But not this time.” He caught her upper arms. “Come up here.” Shoving his jeans lower, he completely freed himself, then found his wallet and the condom inside it. He handed it to Sahara. “You do the honors.”
Smiling, she flipped it a few times, then tore it open with her teeth.
He enjoyed watching her, the way her thick hair swung down around her face when she bent to the task, how her breasts moved, the flex of her nimble fingers. Letting her put the rubber on him was its own form of sweet torture.
“Now,” he growled, at the end of his control. “Ride me.”
Excitement sparked in her eyes. “Oooh, that sounds more like me being the boss again.” She came up to her knees, one hand holding him, and started to sink down.
Brand clasped her hips. “Slowly.” At the same time, he leaned in and gently caught her nipple with his teeth.
Gasping, she stroked him against her wet heat, but he held her so she couldn’t rush things. By small degrees, her body slid down his length and when finally she held all of him, he kept her still, further teasing.
“Brand,” she moaned, her inner muscles squeezing tight. “Please.”
Seeing her like this, so needy, wanting him so badly, satisfied something deep inside him. “Okay.”
The second the word left his mouth, Sahara kissed him hard and began rolling her hips. Brand helped her, guiding her, lifting into her, faster and harder, deeper, and when she tipped her head back and cried out, he joined her.
God, it was good. So good.
He was still trying to catch his breath when Sahara collapsed against him, her cheek on his chest, head under his chin, body lax.
He couldn’t imagine anyone being more compatible with him in bed. But then, on a very basic level, he’d always known the sex would be incredible.
Today, though, she’d shown how nicely she meshed with his folks, too, while still staying true to herself. Sahara didn’t try to fit in. She didn’t have to.
She was perfect as is.
*
SAHARA AWOKE THE next morning with a nudge from Brand. She stretched, yawned and opened her eyes to see him standing there in boxers, beard shadow and holding a cup of coffee.
How could a man look so good? She smiled. “Good morning.”
Brand handed her the coffee in bed, then asked, “What did you have planned with Becky?”
Wow. So she’d managed to distract him last night, only to have him jump right back to it first thing in the morning? She glanced at the clock. It was only seven fifteen.
Unlike many people, she woke sharp, so she sipped her coffee, then said, “I promised to take her shopping.”
A black scowl marred his handsome face. Mouth tight, he bit out, “No.”
“Now, Brand—”
“I told you not to interfere.”
Uh-oh. He sounded far angrier than she’d expected him to be. Trying to explain that she’d been acting in his best interest wouldn’t work. Currently, he didn’t look receptive to any explanations. It’s why she’d chosen to admit to the shopping trip she’d planned, but not the makeover.
She could find a way around shopping...
“I’m sorry.”
Standing away from the bed, his face set, Brand folded his arms. “Why do I have trouble believing that?”
Easy enough to answer. “Because I’m headstrong and usually determined to get my way.” Placing the coffee on the nightstand, she swung her bare legs over the side of the mattress. “Please believe me that I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
His hand slashed through the air. “It’s not about hurting me.”
Of course it was. Men like Brand didn’t want to discuss emotions or feelings, but she knew his mother’s betrayal had cut deep. How could it not? Gently, she promised, “I won’t take her shopping.”
Reluctantly, his gaze went over her body. “It’s fucking unfair of you, Sahara. How can I argue when you look like that?”
Relief took the knots out of her stomach. “I was hoping you couldn’t.” She brushed back her hair and tried a tentative smile. “We have forty-five minutes before I have to be at work.”
He groaned—then took the two big steps necessary to reach her. “I need ten.”
“That works for me.” She’d have to really rush it, but she’d manage.
“God, you make me nuts.”
Before she could reply to that, Sahara found herself thoroughly kissed, her body stroked all over, and then Brand bent her over the edge of the bed and took her hard and fast. Her fists grabbed the sheets, anchoring herself as pleasure pounded through her.
More than that single sip of coffee would have been nice.
But sex with a scruffy, hard-bodied hottie? That beat the hell out of coffee as a wake-me-up any day.
Precisely ten minutes later, her body still humming, Brand carried her into the bathroom and set her on her trembling legs.
Leaning against the door frame, he asked, “Anything I can do to help?”
“You’ve done enough,” she promised him.
He smiled. “I’ll warm your coffee.”
“Thank you.” She took a two-minute shower, brushed her teeth and was rushing through eye makeup when someone rang the doorbell.
She stalled.
At the same time that she realized it had to be Leese, Miles or Justice, it hit her that she and Brand had left their clothes thrown all over the entry.
Oh crap.
Dashing out of the bathroom, she shouted, “Wait...” then slipped to a halt on the polished floor when she saw all three of the men standing inside the door.
Looking around.
Brand followed their gazes, and an “oh” expression hit his face. He shrugged an apology to Sahara and, pretending it didn’t matter, said, “Come on in. Sahara is scrambling to get ready for work. We’re running a little late today.”
Brand had pulled on fresh jeans and a casual black button-up...that he hadn’t yet buttoned. He hadn’t yet shaved either, but his hair was damp, so she assumed he’d caught a shower as well.
When the silence penetrated, she tore her gaze away from Brand and found the other three staring at her. “What?”